


The Power of Laughter (2020 Short)

by HexalianRebel_FeatheredPanda



Series: From the Scribe's Desk [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Magic, Magic-Users, Magical Realism, Tickling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HexalianRebel_FeatheredPanda/pseuds/HexalianRebel_FeatheredPanda
Summary: Panda's Notes: Hey, one of those names looks familiar.
Series: From the Scribe's Desk [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863553
Kudos: 3





	The Power of Laughter (2020 Short)

**Author's Note:**

> Panda's Notes: Hey, one of those names looks familiar.

Magpies are drawn to shiny things, apparently. Well, maybe magpies; a lot of birds were drawn to shiny things. Trevor couldn’t be bothered to remember which bird was the right one as he sprinted through the long grass and fern leaves, but he knew he was naming this thieving rat Mag and using as many feathers as he could get his hands on later.

“If you drop the box now, I won’t have to kill you!” He barked, pausing for just a moment to snap his fingers. He cringed as he received a shock and felt the agitated growl of his disturbed burden.

“Let it go, man; it’s too late already!” Mag laughed. Laughed, the nerve! He begged his burden to make an exception, receiving another snarl and tingles up his back.

“You’re only making this harder on both of us, you brat!” Trevor called out, snapping his fingers again. Nothing. He winced and started to run again, not about to lose sight of the boy just yet.

He took a breath as Mag started to take more turns, seeming to dive suddenly behind trees and bushes more often. His eyes narrowed, and he steadied his hand.

_Just give me one…_

The snap seemed to echo through the trees as the air shifted to make space for the group of conjured objects that rushed from behind Trevor’s head.

_That is way too many._

Trevor bit his lip nervously, some cowardly part of himself wanting to run, but—

“Ahh, what the hell?!” Mag cried out, followed by a shriek as the bushes failed to catch him.

Trevor couldn’t remember the last time he’d moved so fast.

“Search him, one of you!” He ordered as he found the right tree and rounded its trunk. He flinched for a moment as his eyes were met with nothing, only to get a heavy cloth thrown onto his head. He yanked it off, his mind already swimming deep enough in panic without being blinded, and he found himself clutching a leather jacket with a dark green sweatshirt looped inside of it. As he glanced up, he had to hold his breath, biting his lip on a smirk as poor Mag was dangled by his ankles near the lowest branches of the tree.

“Oh, you poor little rat.” Trevor crooned, trying to lower his heart rate as he rifled through the zippered pockets of the jacket. “You all can bring him closer.”

“W-What the hell is this?” He asked shakily, his eyes following the disembodied white gloves that hovered near Trevor curiously. They matched the ones currently holding his ankles and clasping his wrists together behind his back.

“Ooh, as much as I’d love to waste both of our time with that story,” Trevor said with a wag of his finger before opening another zipper and finally finding some purchase. “it’s much more cathartic for me, personally, to say: This, dear Mag, is why you don’t steal from people you don’t know.”

The waist pockets yielded a surprising amount: a cracked cell phone, a red bandana, no less than four wallets, and… a dagger?

“A magpie with talons, are you?” Trevor murmured, unable to help his curiosity and slipping the sheath off of the blade. Jagged runes crisscrossed up the handle, and the engravings on the blade seemed to mimic their pattern.

“A Lightning Element!” Trevor gasped, his eyes lighting up as he sheathed the dagger again. “So you are a little coward then? Brought a weapon and couldn’t even get up the nerve to use it…”

“Shut up! A-And be careful with that; I just got it!” Mag yelled at him, acting pretty tough for someone whose face was already turning red.

“Yeah? Well, what if I said it was mine now? How do you like that?” He passed off the dagger to one of the free gloves, allowing himself a carefully measured chuckle as he went back to searching. Within seconds, he found himself slipping again, the objects he’d been toying with now flung haphazardly as he realized the pockets weren’t giving any more.

“Frisk him.” He snarled, flinging the jacket to the ground as another free glove gathered the items into a pile. Mag was returned one arm and one leg was dropped unceremoniously as two gloves zipped around his pockets and torso; he yelped and flailed a bit, nervous squeaks slipping out of him as he tried to grab one of them. When they pulled back emptyhanded, Trevor let out an exasperated growl. At a snap of his fingers, Mag’s legs fell toward the ground, and Trevor reached up to grab him by the front of his shirt as his knees made sharp cracking sounds against the grass.

“Where’s the box, Mag?!” Trevor asked, shaking the teenager once or twice.

“I told you, it’s too late!” He certainly wasn’t laughing now; he blinked tears out of his eyes from the newly acquired pain. “And that’s not my freaking name, you creep!”

Trevor’s knuckles went pale as he clutched at the thief’s shirt, his eyes flashing a bright red color and making Mag’s face drop in fear. Trevor blinked, the glow fading from his eyes as he took a deep breath and let him go. Even the gloves pulled away from him for a moment, leaving him wincing painfully on the ground.

“You’re really hurt, huh?” Trevor murmured, lifting his wrist to check his watch before dragging his palms over his face. “Can’t walk? We’ll have to carry you, then… Probably means you won’t be going anywhere.”

A patient smirk crept across his face as his fingers tapped his forehead. “Don’t worry, kid; I’ll heal you up. I know the absolute _best_ medicine for you. Maybe then you’ll feel like talking, yeah?” He turned casually on one foot, slipping his hands into his pockets as the gloves gathered Mag and all of his things to carry them after their controller.

Meanwhile, a second little magpie was flooring the gas pedal of an adorable blue mom van, already miles away with a small wooden box tossed into the passenger’s seat instead of his accomplice. A soft pink glow leaked out of the box’s edges, and this magpie laughed excitedly as the adrenaline refused to drain away.

**Author's Note:**

> Panda's Extra Notes: Remember that time I implied I could revive my old novel? ^w^ Apparently I don't, because my brain decided to scramble all those ideas I had. But it suddenly spat out these ideas recently, so I will now pretend to ask myself if it's okay to write an AU of your own work. ^w^


End file.
